


Flowers

by AngelynMoon



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:53:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27245287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelynMoon/pseuds/AngelynMoon
Summary: The flowers never die.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Possibly Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a thing from Pinterest, more information about that at tbe end, but if you've seen the thing you might recognize the premise.
> 
> As always let me know for tags.

The flowers are beautiful, they always are and always will be.

The flowers that fill the clearing are bright and ever blooming, the smell of them quickly fill his nose but he does not leave yet, he always stays awhile, can't bring himself to leave.

He walks to the center of the clearing and sits down, fingers parting the stems of the flowers to touch what they hid.

Geralt looked at the clear sky and hummed a soft tune, unfinished but remembered even after all this time.

When the sky begins to darken is when Geralt begins to speak, telling the night about the progress of his Child Surprise, of Yennefer's newest conquest. He told of Eskel's latest hunts and of Lambert's misadventures in courting a Witcher from the school of Cats and Geralt spoke softly of Vesemir's passing, the only Witcher that Geralt could name who'd not died on the Path but safe, asleep in their bed.

As the sun began to rise Geralt pulled the Elven Lute he carried from his back and he began to play, fingers gentle on the strings, almost a caress.

This tune was not one he'd heard, not one that he'd begged a passing bard to teach him.

No, this tune was one he'd created, a gift to the one who'd brought joy to his life, who'd taught him that the Path might be his Destiny but that shouldn't stop him from living, from loving, from having a family.

It was the one tune that Geralt only played here, in this flower filled clearing, for the ears of the one who'd brought his Child Surprise to him, who had guided him into Yennefer's path so long ago, who had chosen to follow after him, only to find out just how true his words about Geralt smelling of 'death and destiny', of 'heroics and heartbreak' really were and Geralt found himself thinking that Death and Heartbreak smelled much like flower pollen, he wondered what Heroics and Destiny smelled like.

There were no words for the tune, Geralt had never been able to find any that fit, and perhaps that in itself was fitting.

Too soon, Geralt reached the end of the melody, tempted to begin it anew, but the pollen from the flowers was beginning to overwhelm him and he knew he needed to leave before he began sneezing, he'd stayed that long before and had taken days to heal the damages.

In the half delirious haze that had followed he had almost seen the disappointed frown he'd always received following an injury and so he'd never stayed that long again, though he hated to leave so soon.

Geralt replaced the Lute on his back and reached out once more, finding the hand that colorful blooms hid from view.

He squeezed once, hoping, as always, that there would be a response only to receive none, hope whithering away like the flowers never would.

"I'll be back soon, Jaskier." Geralt whispered as he stood, the rustle of the flowers his only reply.

Geralt walked out of the clearing, not looking back over his shoulder even once, he knew what he'd see.

A clearing of bright flowers that never wilted, never died, and the corpse they hid under their lovely petals that did not rot, that remained the same as the moment he'd died centuries ago.

The flowers were beautiful, bright and colorful, always in bloom and never dying.

A beautiful lie hiding an ugly truth.

\---

Inspired by a thing from Pinterest which said something along the lines of 'a healer slamming all of their energy into healing someone but ultimately failing and years later, surrounded by plants lays a corpse refusing to rot'- not exactly this but the just of it because I don't feel like trying to find it to copy the exact words.

Basically what happened was Jaskier got fatally injured and Yennefer, having grown fond of him, tries to heal him and when that fails all of that healing energy is absorbed into the area and his body which doesn't decay like it should and the flowers and surrounding trees never die, nor do the animals try to eat them (most animals, monsters, and humans avoid the clearing, due to the feeling it give them, like they are stepping out of the normal world( most humans have taken to saying it's an entrance to the Fae Realm)).

Geralt comes to visit often because part of him hopes that one day Jaskier will wake up(he's even tried kissing him a few times because Eskel suggested it after reading Fairy Tales to Ciri.)


End file.
